


Winter Winds

by BoringMacaroni



Category: Original Work
Genre: Centaurs, Eproctophilia, Fart Fetish, Farting, Flatulence, Gassy Guy, Lots of Farting, Male Farting, Original Taur Character, Other, Reindeer, Scat, Shit, THERE'S FARTING ALRIGHT, farting fetish, poop, shat, shite, upset stomach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 04:30:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17053166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoringMacaroni/pseuds/BoringMacaroni
Summary: After getting a little too blitzed at a party, Mitzi the elf is rescued and recovered by her brother, Thunder. Things get smelly. Obviously. Why else are you here?





	Winter Winds

**Author's Note:**

> My Christmas gift to you all, but mostly to myself. Includes a rare face-farting scene because you've been mighty good kids this year!

The snow had started again. 

The cervitaur gazed calmly at the sky above. Grey clouds drifted where stars once shone, and with them came a flurry of tiny, crystallised flakes. Small as they may be, the snowflakes fell in the thousands and swiftly accumulated. They had delivered at least a foot to the earth since the reindeer had completed his flight class. He felt a light dusting decorate his dark, messy hair, like sugar atop of a pudding, and shook it from his head. In doing so he rocked the gold bells around his neck, creating a soothing melody that rang out into the darkness and echoed among the forest of dressed fir trees and the mountains that lived beyond them.

Then he lifted his stubby tail and released a noise that wouldn't have been so soothing to whomever may have been wandering around, but felt utterly divine to him.

_FFFFfffffrrrpprrrrhhhhrrrt!_

"Ugggh..." Thunder (as one might have guessed, he was well-named) traced a hand down his chubby stomach as the warm, dry fart flowed from between his furred, ample-sized buttcheeks, frowning softly at the discomfort that still surged within him. Even with that noisy and relieving burst, he hadn't made the slightest bit of difference to his indigestion.

While the other reindeer nursed aching legs and desperately sucked air back into their breathless chests after enduring one of Coach Comet's notorious training sessions, Thunder always found himself sporting a ripe old stomachache. His overweight humanoid stomach cramped and twisted with bloat, and his huge, hanging taur belly bubbled and rumbled with building gas. He would've been quite content to have alleviated this pain in his usual flatulent fashion, but now that he was endeavouring to become one of Santa's lead Flyers, he was restricted by the cumbersome task of keeping up public appearances. And unfortunately for his ever-gassy guts, that meant holding in his gargantuan farts whenever there may be someone around to take notice of them.

A shame, since their reactions had always amused him. But he was twenty-two years old now; no longer a carefree fawn. He couldn't afford to be a slacker anymore.

Thunder's brown ears pricked at the sound of snow crunching under hurried feet. He didn't have to turn his head to know who was approaching him from behind: they had agreed that they would meet by the entrance to Peppermint Forest.

"Sorry-"  _Pant pant pant._  "-I'm late!"

The reindeer taur snorted gruffly. "Late," he began, rotating his massive bulk around, "is an understatement."

He crossed his arms and stared down at the little elfin girl. His adoptive sibling often had an unkempt appearance (it came with living with animals, he supposed), but this was ridiculous. What was that in her hair... marshmallow fluff? And what had happened to her shirt?  _Oh, Mitzi..._

"I've been waiting out here for an hour," he remarked.

"And I've been..." Mitzi placed a hand on her beating heart and leaned her weight against her brother's thick hide. "...been tryna... had to... oh, Thunder, it was sooo much  _fun!_ "

Thunder pursed his lips. "For some."

"Lighten up! An hour isn't that long." She smirked when the taur scoffed in disagreement. "Oh, c'mon! You've taken dumps longer than that."

"Are you seeing this?" Thunder gestured to his near-frozen chest. "Just in case you were wondering, Mitz, nipples aren't supposed to have icicles hanging from them."

"I don't know. They look kinda fetching to me."

Thunder rolled his eyes and shook the latest piling of snow dust from his hair. Mitzi smiled, unaffected by his evident annoyance, and patted his bulging taur tummy.

"Lemme up, will ya?"

"I should make you walk."

"But you won't. 'cause you're my _favourite_  big brother, and you'd never do something like that."

Thunder would've normally put up more of a fight, but he desperately wished to go home and relax. Or maybe this was that whole "maturity" thing his father had been talking about. He reluctantly bowed his front legs, and lowered himself enough for her to climb onto his back.

"Get on, you little brat," he grumbled. "And hands off my antlers."

Mitzi clambered her way up, holding onto his torso for support. Once she had settled, she couldn't resist tugging at the collar around his neck.

"Giddddeeeee up!"

"Mitzi," he warned, eyes narrowing.

"Hey, you said antlers. Not bells."

Thunder bit back another reprimand and slowly plodded forward, and as he walked, his furry gut swung lightly from side-to-side. The snow continued to fall around them. He bypassed his normal route through the forest—unless you were travelling with Rudolph, it was much too dark to navigate now—and made his way down the quaint village high street. Mitzi, more than slightly tipsy, exaggeratedly admired the village's effort at decorating. Miniature Christmas trees guarded every door-step, and multicoloured string lights had been hung from street-lamp to street-lamp.

"Oh, it's all soooo beaut- _hicc_ -iful!" She slurred. As if she hadn't seen the same display a million times. Thunder huffed and watched the fog billow from his nostrils.

"What time is it, anyhow?" she asked coolly.

"Late," her brother grunted. His ears flicked and he kept his head low. Mitzi knew he was irritated, but she didn't think it was very fair being made to feel so guilty.

"Look, it's my first workshop party," she griped. "Aren't I allowed to have a little fun once in a while? Since I got this job, all I do is work!"

"No kidding," Thunder deadpanned. "You're allowed a little fun  _after_  Christmas. That's when every other department has their party. Those coal-mining elves... I've never liked them, Mitzi. There's just something about 'em..."

Mitzi emitted a wet burp and threw a hand over her mouth.

"Don't you throw up on me!" The elf bounced on her brother's back as the large buck stirred beneath her.

"It's not my fault," Mitzi whined. She was starting to feel dizzy.

"Maybe if you eased up on the eggnog..." Thunder muttered surreptitiously.

"Listen to yourself!" Mitzi snapped. "What happened to Thunder the Party Buck, huh? Where'd he fly off too?"

"He started training for this little thing called  _Christmas Eve._  Maybe you've heard of it?"

"You're not even part of the team," the elf said snidely.

"If my training goes well, I could be," Thunder responded proudly. "Imagine it! Me and Lightning, side-by-side. You know how good it would look if  _both_  of Donner's sons were pulling the sleigh in their first year?"

"Well," Mitzi yawned, twirling a strand of sticky hair around her finger, "when  _you_  fail- _hicc!_  ...at least we'll still have Lightning."

"Gee, thanks for the support," the taur grumbled. If he wasn't so bloated, he'd kick her off his back. She had gotten lucky tonight.

_Gooooouuuurrrrgggg...!_

It's like they can hear me, he thought. Thunder groaned under his breath as his stomachs disagreed with whatever food he had consumed in excess that day—there had been far too many meals to count. Mitzi was too drowsy (and, most notably, drunk) to notice her brother's steadily developing plight.

"It's not your fault you're the inferior one," she continued sleepily. "He has, like,  _super_  speed. And you have..." She leaned to the side and poked at his massive stomach. "Super fatness?"

"It's called muscle!" Thunder stamped one of his front hooves churlishly. With a cough, he quickly collected himself. "Ahem. Speed isn't _everything_ , you know. That's what Coach Comet taught us. You need guys with a little meat on their bones, too. How else will the sleigh get anywhere?"

"Well, I think you're getting bigger."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"I've been eating more." Again he felt the sickly bubbling in his guts. His tail wagged with slight apprehension. "Gotta bulk up, you know?"

"Yeah, and what's your excuse for the rest of the year, lard-butt?"

"Oh shut up."

There was a rare and unexpected silence for five minutes, as Mitzi sunk into a brief, drunken doze. Though she had officially gotten on every one of his nerves, Thunder still made sure to slow his pace so he wouldn't disturb her; Christmas Eve was only a few days away and the poor kid would have to work again tomorrow. She'd need the rest.

His stomachs continued to ache and writhe and now the buck felt sweat begin to bead on his forehead. The gas amounting in his bowels was swirling like the snow around them, growing stronger and more furious with every step he took.

"SLEIGH BELLS RING!"

"What the?!" Thunder flinched at the sudden racket. His teeth promptly gritted once he realised what was happening. "Oh, Mitzi!"

"ARE YA LISTENING? In the  _laaaane_ -"

"Mitzi!" He shouted. The elf girl rubbed at her eyes and burped again.

"Hey, that's not how it goes."

Thunder shot her a stern glance over his shoulder.

"Will you hush up already? People are trying to sleep, ya know!"

"What, you don't like that song? Fine. I know- _hicc!_ -plenty more..."

" ** _No_** , I said-"

"Frooooosty, the Snowman!"

 **"MITZI."**  Thunder... well, thundered: "Don't you know it's Christmas Eve in  _three_ -"

"Yeah, yeah. You ain't the only one with a calendar." Mitzi's head was throbbing, and her brother's yelling didn't help. Couldn't the smelly reindeer ever be quiet? Bitterness seeped into her wobbly voice.

"You know..." She began, raising a finger. "Ever since... _hicc!_ "

"Here we go," Thunder sighed. He lowered his ears, readying himself to hear another illogical tirade... before he felt it. A rather urgent movement in his taur gut. Something inside him was rapidly heading south...

_And they were still in the middle of the village!_

"Oh no," he winced fearfully.

"Ever since you started taking life seriously," Mitzi lectured pointedly, "you turned into such a...  _uuURP!_  A big, fat bore!"

Thunder observed the store windows on either side of the high street, frantically searching for any signs of life. He wasn't about to disturb the hard-working Senior elves that lived in this part of town, they were the much-loved employees of the North Pole's Head Honcho, the very man he was trying to impress. Both of his stomachs gurgled ferociously and he fastened an arm around his human belly.

"You might wanna take a leaf out of my book if you ever want to get out of the coal department," Thunder uttered gravely, picking up the pace so that his leisurely walk became a desperate trot. "Seriously- _oof!_ " A cramp ripped through his stomachs and reddened his face.

"You keep this up, and you'll be spending the rest of your life there, I guarantee it. Ouch!"

"Keep this up," Mitzi mimicked in a childish voice, "and you'll be spending the rest of your life-...hey, why'd we stop?"

Thunder had halted at a street-lamp. They were still in the village but he couldn't wait any longer. Something  _had_  to give. He looked both ways, his back legs anxiously crossed together, and leaned his weight against the black pole, making it creak.

"Hey, kid," he started anxiously, "you see anybody around?"

"You said it was late, doofus. They're probably sleeping."

"But do you _see_  anyone? Or any... open windows?! Oogh!"

"Woah!" The elf gripped onto the fur on her brother's back as she felt him drop into a squat. Mitzi's face scrunched in slow, dawning realisation.

"Thunder, what are you...  _no!_ "

_"Hhhhhhg!"_

The taur lifted one of his muscular back legs and unleashed a torrent of gnarly flatulence. The rotten, shit-scented gale was deafening and destructive: it took down some of the nearby Christmas trees, sending baubles and candy canes hurtling into the night sky, and annihilated a row of outdoor stalls. Wreaths were blown from their doors. Thunder groaned with deep, intimate pleasure as he exhausted his overfilled bowels, spilling nasty gas at an explosive rate, while Mitzi threw her hands over her mouth and tried not to spew.

"Ooh, man!" Thunder threw back his head and pushed both hands into his swollen belly. The forceful action carried all the way down into his deer intestines, and with a wet rumble, they shoved a whole batch of hot, damp farts out of his musky rear-end. They rippled and splattered as they met the night air, emitting as puffs of yellow-tinged steam.

"That feels amazing!" He cried.

After a whole minute and a half of non-stop farting, Thunder finally set his leg back down with a contended sigh.

"Boy, I needed that," he laughed smoothly. "Phew. Does that smell as good as it felt, kiddo? I bet so. Haha!"

Thunder was long accustomed to his own noxious brand. Mitzi wasn't so fortunate.

"Oh,  _brother_ , what did you eat!?" she coughed harshly.

"Just a few bales of hay," Thunder shrugged impishly. "Oh, and maybe a wheelbarrow full of carrots."

Mitzi slammed a hand into her face. Carrots always made her brother windy... or  _windier._  Thunder wagged his tail, let loose with a few innocent bottom-burps and continued forward as though nothing had happened. The stench still leaked from his portly behind, so Mitzi crawled her way down toward his great big rump, to fan some of the miasma away.

"You've gotta be the gassiest creature in the whole North Pole," she muttered sharply.

"Thanks."

"Again,  _not_  a compliment!"

"Been holding that in since we started training," Thunder said with a lazy grin. The remaining gas jiggled his plump human gut, and emitted from his throat in a long, loud burp.

"I could tell," Mitzi had her nose tightly plugged. "They always smell worse when you've been hoarding 'em for a while.  _Hicc!_ You had the _worst_  after-school gas. That is, when you actually bothered to hold it in."

"Hey, I was the class goober. That was my job," he defended. The taur stretched his arms into the air, and Mitzi's nose scrunched as she got a hearty whiff of his B.O. "You know, that's been the hardest part for me."

"Oh, sure. Going from farting every thirty seconds to every thirty minutes must be exhausting."

"I didn't really care about the other guys complaining," the taur snickered. "It was helping me win a few races. Nobody wanted to be behind me. But then I ripped one in Blitzen's daughter's face, and she didn't seem so fond of that. Got a nice set of antlers on her, so I hold it in for her."

"You'll do it for her and not for me?!"

"I don't see any antlers on you," Thunder smirked.

The family home soon emerged from the shadows. Thunder turned and travelled toward the barn he and Lightning shared toward the back of their parents' residence, and stepped lightly as they passed by their cottage, hoping his mother hadn't stayed up to wait for him. Gas still swelled his troublesome guts, but clearly his own noises were the least of his problems.

_"SILVER BELLLS!"_

"Mitzi, will you can it already!"

"You are...  _hicc!_ " Mitzi shut her eyes in exasperation. "...zero fun..."

"You know, I didn't have to come and rescue you tonight. I could've let you get snow-faced, and Mom and Pops could've found you in the morning, and me and Lightning could sit back and enjoy the show. But no, I had to be the loyal, devoted brother..." He sighed dramatically.

"Gassing yourself up much? No-no, wait, I didn't-!"

Thunder let out a powerful, rumbling fart and chuckled.

"No,  _that's_  gassing myself up."

"More like gassing the barn up, you oaf," Mitzi chided. "Lightning's gonna be pissed."

"When isn't he?" The buck laughed. He rolled back his strong shoulders and exhaled as he released a super-sized wave of putrid, silent gas.

"Ahhh... that felt good."

"Gross," Mitzi groaned.

"Deal with it," Thunder yawned. He parked in his side of the barn and let his sister slide off his back. Not walking for fifteen minutes had clearly made her legs all the more fragile: Thunder watched in amusement as she stumbled around the floor like a newborn calf.

"Pah! The dummy I put in your bed has more coordination than you," he teased. "You're like a-"

He fell into a sombre silence as he saw her heading straight for the tower of metal pails.

"Hey, hey! Mitzi, watch out!"

Crrraaash! Thunder's ears folded back as he listened to the horrible racket reverberate around the barn. The last pail rolled nosily toward him, and he stopped it with his hoof. Mitzi lay dazed among the spilled heap.

" _Ah_ , my head..."

"Great," he whispered, pained. Both of their hearts skipped a beat at the familiar wail of their parents' front door swinging open.

"Qui- _hicc!_  Quick!" Mitzi cried. "You gotta hide me!"

"Do I?" Thunder raised a brow. "I'm thinking I should just let mom find you."

"Thunder!" She pleaded. The buck rolled his eyes and herded her into the stall where he slept, and Mitzi crouched down in the messy stack of straw and hay.

"Keep that mouth of yours shut," Thunder ordered. He lifted his head just as he heard his mother's hooves heading promptly toward his stall.

"Thunder?" His mother's worried voice called out. "Is that you, hon?"

"Yeah, mom, it's me," he kicked a few heaps of hay over and onto Mitzi, hoping it would be enough to conceal her. "Over here."

"What on earth was that noise?"

"Practising take-off. Emphasis on practice, heh."

"I see," she tittered fondly. The doe looked around her son's pen, then frowned as she noticed the empty neighbouring paddock. "And where's your brother?"

"Sleeping over at Astro's, I think. They left practice together. Oogh!"

He might've hidden his sister, but Thunder couldn't conceal his illness as gas churned violently in both of his bellies. All four legs shifted their weight, hoofs clicking nervously against the floor. Mitzi heard it but managed not to react.

"You, uh.. n-need anything else, mom?"

"Oh, no." _Phew._ "Well actually.."

Thunder groaned internally.

"Perhaps a little advice?" she continued.

"Shoot," he replied weakly.

"Do you think your sister is angry with us? Honestly, we didn't  _want_  her to miss the party, but I've never been fond of those elves..."

"Oh, mom, Mitzi'll be fine," Thunder assured her. His ears wiggled uneasily as his felt his bowels loosen. "She'll... she'll get over it. She can go to one of the other parties. After Friday, there'll be plenty of them."

"True, true. So, how about tomorrow then? Nervous for your assessment?"

**_BBbbbrrrlllllrrrpppprr-PPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRT!_ **

Thunder's face flushed in surprise at the unexpected release. The fart stretched out to half a minute and was disgustingly greasy, spitting doplets of sweat all over the soft, surprisingly clean cream fur that covered his buttocks. But _boy_ , did his stomach feel better already! Thunder struggled to stop himself from breaking even more wind. Mitzi gagged silently as her brother's fetid fumes blew hay into the air and wafted straight into her face.

"I'll... take that as a yes," his mother resisted a laugh. She fanned the smog away from her nostrils. Even she wasn't quite immune to her offspring's odours. "You better get some sleep, sweetheart. Don't stay up too late."

"I won't, mom."

"Goodnight."

Thunder managed a kind smile. "Night."

It felt like a lifetime before their mother finally left the barn. Mitzi spit hay out of her mouth and jumped into the air, fists swinging.

"You-you- _hicc!_  You big, fat pig, you farted right in my-... hey, what the?!"

She was devoured by the humongous expulsion the buck pushed out of his furry behind. Thunder's tense shoulders sank in satisfaction as he passed a prolonged passage of projectile flatulence. Mitzi blinked her burning eyes as his stench, a mixture of dung and rotten eggs, seemed to swallow her whole.

"T-Thunder!" She coughed out with every ounce of power left in her battered lungs. "I'm behin-ahh!"

Instead of freeing her, her older brother took a step backward. She was small for her age and he was plus-sized by taur standards, and so he easily pinned her against the back wall with both of his pillowy, fat-laden cheeks. Feeling her between his soft, silky flesh, he smiled and wriggled his arse, making himself more comfortable.

She screamed his name, but Thunder only laughed and idly scratched at his armpit.

"You've been a real pain in the ass tonight, Mitz."

Closer to his stomach, she could hear the swampy splashing going on in his intestines. His bowels bubbled, and his spine shivered in anticipation for his impending expulsion.

"So I think it's only fair I do the same to you. You  _do_  owe me."

Thunder's stomachs suddenly shook with the forceful vibration that came from within.

"Ya hear that? I think that might be the carrots..." He grinned darkly, feeling his anus start to pucker and widen. He knew he was about to release a motherlode of his most putrid poison. There was a dreadful pause and silence, as Thunder squeezed his hands into fists and lifted his tail up high.

"Fire in the hole!"

The explosion was colossal. Thunder's heavy buttocks parted to let loose a deluge of gas that truly lived up to his name—the sound was like that of a soaked motorbike engine; his flatulence was wet, but horrifically meaty. Robust farts spewed out of his anus in one thick, hefty stream, overlapping each other so that each fart blended into the one before it, sounding as though they weighed a pound each and smelling like he hadn't emptied his bowels in over a week. Finally able to soundly relieve himself, Thunder let his winds blow freely, and blow they did.

_"Hhhhhffft...!"_

He lowered his ears and bit into his lip. A sudden, tremendous fart belched monstrously out of his back-end, making his whole body start from the forceful blast, and with that final push he could now let the pent-up rippers bluster uncontrollably out of his smelly rump.

"Ohhh! That's the stuff," he moaned satisfyingly. His eyes had started to close over with how relaxed he had become. He rubbed his fat, gurgling stomach as he involuntarily passed more of his toxic torrent, a dopey smile plastered on his face.

Mitzi had already had the wind knocked out of her by his first attack, but now she was edging on suffocation. Her face was a dark purple and her eyes stung like that time she had accidentally wiped her face with a paint-dipped cloth. Her chest was pressed tightly against his hairy ass, and her face was directly in line with his pink, fleshy hole. Her only respite was that, for once, her brother's derriere wasn't stained with faeces. She gagged as she was fed more of his foul, eggy wind, and occasionally Thunder looked over his shoulder to smirk at her, but mostly to make sure she hadn't passed out. Technically, she needed to be  _conscious_  for this to be torture.

"Tasty enough for ya, Mitz?" he asked mischievously.

He could hear Mitzi's muffled pleas and they evoked a devilish smile. Thunder relaxed his back legs and squatted, now trapping Mitzi's head between his powerful thighs. Gas ploughed out of his backside at an astounding speed and rushed into her nostrils. He had been farting continuously for the past three minutes and he showed no signs of stopping. He shifted his backside and accidentally triggered a series of loud, intensely smelly farts. Thunder could feel Mitzi's body growing weak. She wouldn't be able to put up with much more.

He sighed, knowing it would have to end soon. It wasn't  _so_  bad. She had helped him get rid of most of his intestinal distress, and of course he would have to save some for Lightning, should the buck made the terrible decision of spending the night at home instead of at Astro's. Soft, near-silent gas poured out of his anus, and he hummed to himself, patting his round belly as he felt himself nearing the end of his batch.

_Bbbblloorrrpt!_

The taur's ears pricked upward. That fart had been wet, which wasn't unusual... but even his nose wrinkled at the rotten stink that followed. Jeez, maybe those carrots hadn't been as fresh as he thought.

_Bbbrrapt! Ppprrrlloorrrpt! Bbbrrrlllrrrrpppppt..._

Thunder's eyes widened as the farts propelled out of him against his own will, growing deeper, then damper, then... mushier.

"Oh-oh, shi-!"

He immediately lifted his rump and freed his victim as clods of squishy faeces barrelled out of his asshole. The pressure had lifted and Mitzi slowly came to, though her headache was even worse than before. The smell in her nose was appalling and now she could see something brown smeared all over her pointed shoes. Her eyes also widened as she realised her brother was defecating mere _inches_  from her face.

She screamed in horror.

Contended rumbles came from Thunder's throat as he soiled his stall. The shit came out as a constant, yet solid flow of formed turds. Sometimes it would grow watery, and he'd fart and cause it to splatter all over the walls. This always got a chuckle out of him, knowing he wasn't the one who'd have to clean it up.

"THUNDER!" Mitzi yelled. The taur stepped to the side to give her space to escape.

"Alright, keep your hair on," he giggled. "What, as if you ain't seen  _this_  before!"

"You nearly-" Mitzi breathed in as much fresh oxygen as she could. "You almost shit on my face!"

"That might've been an improvement." He teased. Mitzi hurled a few forbidden words at him and turned on her heels to storm off. But she soon felt herself being dragged back, as Thunder reached out and caught her by her shirt collar.

"Oh no you don't..."

"Hey, let me go!"

"Fine." He smirked menacingly. "But I'll tell Mom and Pops all about how you snuck out tonight."

Mitzi's stomach clenched. She wasn't sure if it was because of the threat or the smell.

"...what is it? You want me to do something?"

"Rub me," her brother whined and gestured to his bloated taur belly. "I still got gas."

"Oh, you don't say."

"But it ain't moving...  _hhhng."_ A weak poot fluttered out of him. "You gotta break it up a little," he almost begged.

Mitzi sighed. "You promise you're not gonna poop again?"

"Scout's honour."

The elf girl pressed two hands against one side of his obese middle and rubbed. Her brother's ears quickly lowered in pleasure, and he slowly began to lift one of his back legs. He started to moan. There was a deep, murky burble from his belly, and his tail twitched in anticipation. Then, much to Mitzi's genuine shock, he farted with so much force he had to steady himself using the side of his stall.

In all her years of living with her gaseous sibling, Mitzi had never seen him fart quite like this. Volcanic flatulence soared out of his posterior and created a whirlwind out of the straw and hay. Mustard-yellow gas filled his stall. Thunder gritted his teeth and tensed as the hurricane escaped him, and only relaxed once it had broke off into a cacophony of shorter, rapid-fire farts, then dropped into a low stream of wet, pungent gas, that bubbled and rippled against the sweat that drenched his asshole.

Mitzi blinked. "Are you finished...?"

**FRRRRRAAABBBBRRRRPPPRRRT!**

Shit tumbled from between her brother's cheeks until he had laid a pile almost a foot high behind him. The buck chortled, clearly amused.

"Oh, Thunder!" She chastised, pulling her collar over her nose.

Ignoring her complaints, Thunder wagged his tail as he continued to excrete. The last turd slipped out alongside a foul SBD that made Mitzi gag and almost vomit altogether.

"All done! Nice work, kiddo," the taur ruffled her hair. Mitzi shook her head in silent disbelief and turned toward the exit.

"Hey, where'd ya think you're going?" 

"Uh, to  _bed!_ " She snapped furiously. Her eyes were frenzied and blood-shot, her hair was standing on end... and she didn't smell too great either. "I've had enough of your literal crap. Goodnight!"

"But who's going to clean this up?"

"Not me!"

Thunder cleared his throat and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Oh, moooooooom!"

Mitzi came scrambling back. "Fine, fine!" she hissed, picking up a bucket and shovel on her way over (and a cloth, once the taur had pointed out the full extent of the mess he had made.) Thunder walked toward his hay rack and supervised the elf's work.

You know," he chewed slowly— _after all, he wouldn't want to give himself gas, would he?_   "You should think about applying to do reindeer hospitality, kid. You're an _excellent_  belly rubber, and I ain't just sayin' that 'cause you're my little sis."

Mitzi wiped the sweat from her face and glared at him.

"Thanks for the offer," she growled, "but I've had quite enough of reindeer."

"Hey, Mitzi?"

"What?!"

"...you missed a spot."


End file.
